Small World
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2011 by Wandering Lanes

In the stable Blackie was pretending to be a horse when an alarm sounded in his head. 'What's the problem?' he sent out.

'Scout has been taken prisoner and needs extraction, can you get help? I've turned on the tracker.' Hal sent to him.

Blackie looked around the stable and at the gate that was securely barred, the side door was too small for his bulk, he shook his head and went through his options, he had the explosive tipped bullets that would fire from the gun in his head, he had cannons on either flank, but realised that this would mean more explanations than Scout could give.

He examined the bolts and realised that they were too small for his mouth to operate and the door looked too stout for him to just batter down, he was about to unlimber the right flank gun when the side door opened and Jo stepped into the stable.

The girl looked confused as she regarded Blackie, the puzzlement clearly evident on her face. "I heard that your master is in trouble ... he needs you." She said and she went to the door, unbolted it and then led Blackie outside.

She put a saddle onto Blackie's back and taking a small sword, she sheathed it in into the scabbard on the saddle. Then before the horse could react she jumped onto him, seating herself in the saddle.

"Well, go on. I don't know where he is but you will." She said and Blackie, his ears lying back in confusion began walking.

As they left the Inn Jo saw Simon and his two helpers approaching, she called to him. "Sir Jones is in trouble, come with ... me." She said hesitating over the last word.

"But we were told to report to..." Simon started to say but Jo fixed him with her gaze and he could see the seriousness behind them.

"I'm a part of the Inn, will you protect me?" Jo said simply and nudged Blackie with her legs, the horse moved on following the tracking signal that Hal was feeding him.

Simon looked at the two with him, "William, you go onto the Inn and keep an eye on things, I'll be back if I find out this girl has been lying to me." He said and began jogging after Blackie and Jo.

Jo gave a sigh and turned around to look at Simon, "I'm not lying to anyone! Sir Jones is in danger and he needs you." She said in a voice that brooked no answering back, but Simon tried anyway.

"And how is it that you know this?" He asked her.

Blackie gave a snort and increased speed, "Well if I didn't then his horse does, do you think he'd allow me to ride him otherwise?" Jo said in a reasonable tone.

Simon reflected on the intelligence of the horse and realised that the girl was right as they approached the house of Jordan de Vior.


In a basement room there was an iron chair, firmly fixed to the floor. Seated in the chair was Jones, his torso was bared and his arms firmly shackled behind him on to the back of the chair. There was blood soaking into the shackles and – too small to be seen - the Nanites in Jones' blood were working away at the shackles, changing them to rust.

To one side a large fire was burning in the fire were several different rods of iron, heating up in true medieval fashion. Dressed in a leather apron – almost like the blacksmith, but for a much different use – was a large man, in his hand was a chain metal glove which he caressed lovingly.

Jordan de Vior was standing impatiently by waiting for action, with a gesture he directed the torturer to start.

A bucketful of water was thrown over Jones bringing him around. He spluttered and then looked around seeing Jordan standing in front of him. Jones sighed.

"I did hope to see a friendly face and what do I get? ... Quasimodo!" he said wincing as he did so.

'Don't piss him off just yet Scout, the Nanites need more time to work.' Hal cautioned Jones.

"What do you mean? Who is this ... Quasimodo?" Jordan asked sounding puzzled and annoyed at Jones' words.

"You've never read Victor Hugo? He was from this region I thought?" Jones said.

'Wrong area Scout, he was from further East!' Hal said

There was a blow as Jordan's fist struck Jones' face, "I don't need you to talk to me. All I need is your signature on a bill of sale and then you'll be allowed to go, that's all I need and nothing else needs to happen to you." Jordan said trying to sound reasonable.

"And how much would I get for this signature?" Jones asked.

"Why you'd be allowed to live ... what more could any man want, his own life ... all it needs is your signature on this parchment." Jordan said holding out a form.

Jones didn't say anything, he was stalling for time as directed by Hal, finally Jordan spoke again, "Well, what is your answer?" He demanded.

Jones looked up from his bound position. "Let me get this straight, if I sign this bill of sale, I get nothing more than my life ... if I don't sign it then what?" He asked.

Jordan blinked and frowned, was it possible that this man, this supposed knight was a simpleton? "If you don't sign then you will die, it's just that simple." He paused for a few minutes and then asked, "Well, what are you doing?"

Jones gave a smile, "One moment I'm just thinking ... after all I've got plans for that Inn, a change of paintwork and a new name, plus more staff will make me a lot of money." Jones said.

"But that Inn is part of my family's inheritance, you have no right to it, and once you sign this form you can go from here." Jordan said and then turned to the man beside him. "Show him what's in store, but don't hurt his right hand ... he'll need that for signing." Jordan said and went to sit into a chair.

'Don't worry Scout; the Nanites can repair any damage that is done to you.' Hal said reassuringly.

'I'm more concerned about the pain.' Jones said back as the man approached, his mailed fist being drawn back.

'Oh that, well I can overcome that.' Hal said and then Jordan couldn't feel anything, it was as if all his nerves were switched off.

There was a meaty thud as the fist of the torturer landed on Jones' face.

Jones could tell that bone had been broken but that was all, he turned his head back and then spat out the teeth that had been broken.

"I take it your profession is in dentistry?" Jones said to the man calmly although slightly distorted.

This seemed to faze the man who looked at Jordan, "My Lord, he shouldn't be able to talk, he should be in agony."

"Well, keep at it until he cries out, then I'll ask him again." Jordan said and sat back in his chair.

The torturer returned to Jones and began striking away at the exposed torso, concentrating on the stomach area, the mailed glove ripping at Jones' body, but apart from the grunt of air being forced from Jones' lungs Jones remained silent.

The torturer shook his head and turned to Jordan for more instructions, in his turn Jordan gave a snarl and pointed back to Jones, telling the man to continue.

When the man turned back to Jones he saw the damage that had been wreaked on the face that was smiling at him. "Well my man, want to try again, your lord seems to be anxious for my answer." Jones rasped out.

The torturer knew that this wasn't the way that it should be, by now this knight should be screaming in agony, the mail on his fist wasn't just metal, it had spikes to rip and tear at the body.

Taking a pin from his coat he jabbed it into Jones' arm, feeling it hit the bone and then he moved it back and forth, but again there was no reaction from Jones. The torturer moved away from the man again and turned back to Jordan.

"I'm sorry My Lord, but he cannot feel anything. It's as if he has no nerves in his body ... nothing I can do will make him react." The man said.

At first Jordan didn't believe him but then realised that this man was an expert in this field ... and there wasn't anyone else closer who would do this work. "What about the press? Would that affect him?" He asked.

The torturer shook his head, "Nope, maybe kill him, but he's in such a frame of mind that he wouldn't say anything, let alone sign anything.

'PULL ON THE SHACKLES, SCOUT' Hal ordered urgently while the other two were talking

Jones concentrated and began to pull, his augmented muscles straining as the Nanite induced rust began to disintegrate and the shackles fell apart. Jones got to his feet. 'Now starting emergency healing on body.' Hal said and Jones felt his face rearranging itself back to normal, teeth erupting from his gums to replace those lost and then the feeling returned.

Jones screamed from the pain which was already fading and then he turned to the torturer, who was open mouthed in shock, his eyes wide at the sight of this man changing before his eyes and not registering the fist that was now aimed at his head, a fist empowered by Jones' augmented strength.

As the clenched fist connected the torturers head flew around, and there was an audible snap as his neck broke. Jones regarded the prone body with disdain and then turned his attention to Jordan.

"Keep away from me wizard, I just have to call out and my men will come running." Jordan said while he tried to sidle away from Jones.

Jones kept a steady pace towards Jordan, "You have attacked a knight ... you have dared to put me to torture for your own advances ... I declare you ... outlaw." Jones intoned formally, the words being given to him by Hal.

"You ... you cannot. I am a citizen of Vior; my family have lived here..." Jordan began but watched as Jones seized an iron from the fire, and was ignoring the pain of burning flesh, he brought the iron around and branded Jordan's cheek with a line and then his other cheek was also burned, causing the frightened man to scream out.

Jones threw the iron to one side and held up his hand for Jordan to see the burnt and damaged flesh, which began to repair itself and heal before his eyes. "I am blessed by those who you have trodden on in your greed. You own no lands and have no family." Jones said and grabbed hold of Jordan's clothes.

"You don't even own the shirt on your back." Jones said and violently ripped the jerkin and blouse from Jordan, before throwing him against the door.

From above there were the sounds of panic and heavy thuds as doors were battered down, Jones gave a smile. "It looks like my help has arrived." He said grabbing hold of the frightened Jordan's arm.


Blackie stood before a large house; it was more like a manor house than a town house, but Jo who was riding the horse knew whose it was, it belonged to her uncle.

"Sir Jones is inside. You have to find him and bring him out." She directed Simon and the man with him.

Simon shook his head, "Oh no, you're not doing that to me. I know who lives there, Jordan de Vior owns it. He's not going to try anything so soon. I'm not going in."

Jo drew the sword from the scabbard and dropped off the back of Blackie. With the blade she drew a cross on the door and gave a smile. "There's your target, the door isn't barred, just locked." She said and stood to one side.

There was a snicker from Blackie who turned around and seemed to be lining himself up before drawing back his hind legs and then kicking out with both, right on the cross and forcing the doors apart.

Jo turned to Simon, "I know my duty." She said and entered the house followed by Blackie; Simon looked at his cohort and sighed before following the girl in and stepping over the prone form that had been struck by the door.

Simon looked into a side room and found a man cowering there; he grabbed hold of the man's jerkin. "IS SIR JONES IN THIS HOUSE?" He demanded.

"He's ... He's ... he's down in the cellar ... what was that thing?" the man babbled almost incoherently.

"That? That's his horse and a ten year old girl." Simon gave a smile, "And I wouldn't cross the girl whatever else you may do." He said. 'Damn her, she was right! And I'm duty bound to protect him ... Well at least there's Jordan to find.' He thought to himself.

Going through the house they found no opposition as Blackie charged at anyone to move them out of Jo's way, they found the stairs going down and as Blackie stood at the top looking down Jo saw two forms approaching.


Jones had bound Jordan's arms behind him and was forcing the man upstairs when he heard a voice. "Master, I have brought you help." It was Jo's.

"What the blazes are you doing here? You should be at home in bed recovering." Jones said but wondered about the 'Master' that Jo had called him.

Jo shook her head, "No Master, I knew you were in trouble and came to help. I've brought Simon de Vior with me and another man. He will take over now." She said handing the reins of Blackie to Jones.

Jones turned to Simon who was just getting to the top of the stairs and was watching Jones closely, noting the fading bruises and cuts that were healing themselves, he crossed himself. "Just what kind of man are you?" He asked.

"Pissed off, that's what I am! Take this thing to the gates and throw him out of the city, nobody is to give him succour or aid. His actions have declared him outlaw. I give his property to the city for them to deal with."

Simon nodded, "It will be up to the Duke to make this legal ... but I know of the law and your words have the power behind them. I will contact the guild for guards to protect this house and the other hostelries." He said turning to the man who had accompanied him.

Jones nodded again and then turned back to Jo, "And you, young lady are going to return home." He lifted the girl up to sit her onto Blackie's back. 'Take her back now Blackie, I'll be there soon.' He sent to the ersatz horse that nodded its head and turned out of the building.

Jones turned to a quivering man and bellowed, "I need food." He did feel hungry ... no, not hungry but starving!

"Ye ... yes ... milord, what do you want?" The frighten man stammered out.

 
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